Wounded and Aroused
by SilentHillKitty
Summary: Altaïr gets badly injured while carrying out a contract and returns to the Bureau where the Jerusalem Dai resides and awaiting his return. Malik has been a life-long friend who, despite losing so much because of the Assassin, still cares for their tattered friendship. But will seeing his friend on the verge of death cause deeply hidden feelings to arise? Yaoi Two-shot WHOOT!
1. Chapter 1

**Throwing the disclaimer out there: I do not own(sadly) nor make any profit(again, sadly) Assassin's Creed or any of it's Characters. Assassin's Creed ©** **UbiSoft**

The dull sounds of the bells fading into the late summer evening sky were just barely able to drown out the deep, ragged pantings of the shaded figure as he hid in the shadows the buildings created, praying the guards would just run right past, not paying any mind to the small alcove he chose as his hiding spot. Things had gone bad before in his years as an Assassin, but this was, by far, the worse he had been through in a long while. He clutched at the bleeding wound on his left thigh, knowing he would have to have it looked after soon if he were to safely recover with all his limbs in tact. His covered eyes glanced up at the sky above him, trying to mull through his thoughts to figure out how this had gone so array. No clear thoughts entered his mind as he took the time to relax and gather what little strength he could muster up. Falling against the cold, clay wall of the building to his left with a loud, pain-filled gasp, the Assassin took deep breaths as he waited for the guards to calm before he dared to venture out into the throng of the crowd. His back burned and ached from all the damage he took. His white robes clung to his body, due to blood or sweat, he could not differentiate, but it was limiting his movements rather greatly.

Despite everything, all he knew was he had to return to the Jerusalem Bureau quickly and safely, and without the attention of the guards all around him. He felt he could handle them easily, even if his torn and battered body said other wise. Putting his own life in danger was one thing he was quite content with, but he felt for the safety of his deeply cherished friend. His throat tightened up at the thought of him.

_Malik._

What would he think of him were he to return to the Bureau in such a poor condition? He was sure to get an ear full from him as he helped tend to his wounds. Saying how reckless he was, which would then, no doubt, result in him calling him a novice a few dozen times. Shaking his weary head, the Assassin pushed himself off the rough wall once his breathing slowed to what he considered to be normal enough, taking in a deep breath as he felt the guards had traveled far enough to cause no further harm to him, nor follow him to his destination. He secretly began praying that the faint trail of blood he was leaving in his wake would not be noticeable enough to lure the guards his way. Taking one last look around the rooftops, he lowered his head slightly as he moved out from the shadows caused by the roofing of the building next to him with a slight limp to his step. Jaw clenched tightly as the pain ran up his leg, the deep sword gash on his thigh bleeding profusely, despite him having tightly tied a torn piece of his robe to it, which was no longer it's snow white color, but now stained red beyond repair. Spotting a ladder, he reached out for it, his arms aching from all the bruises and cuts he was sure littered his flesh underneath the garments. With a sharp intake of air, he swung his body onto the wooden frame, grasping the splintered wood with his right hand first, his fingers wrapping tightly around the worn wood. Grabbing hold of the ladder with both hands now, his arms protested from the weight they had to hold up as he began his slow descent to the rooftop below. He was still a ways away from the Bureau, but he felt it would be an easier trek if he were at least on the same level as the entrance.

The fading sounds of the bells were hardly heard by him now as all he could hear were the faint, yet frustrated, shouting of the guards who had lost site of him, and the loud thudding of his heart beat filling his ears. He glanced down to the street below, spotting a group of Scholars as they were slowly walking by, their heads bowed. For an instant, he contemplated on joining them, knowing they would welcome him freely into their small party. However, he took a glance down at his own person. It would seem odd for a Scholar's robes to be tainted by so much blood. With a low growl, he pushed away from the edge, walking over to a make shift bridge made from a few flanks of wood tied together rather poorly. Not even bothering to look down, he soundlessly skipped across the bridge with ease, ignoring the sudden gasps from behind as he figured some of his blood had dripped down to the street below.

He sighed with deep relief as the ever present chimes echoed on the warm breeze as he neared a building that held a mild difference from the others, ensuring he had safely arrived at the Bureau. He never thought hearing the particular chimes that gave hint to the Bureau's location to only those who were Assassin's or friends of, would sound so beautiful to him. Turning a corner rather clumsily, he stopped dead as he was faced with the back of a heavily armed guard looking at the entrance to the Assassin's Bureau with mild interest. He narrowed his eyes, a sudden fear for his friend's safety boiling up. Knowing he could not enter whilst the man was there, he crept up behind him, not making the slightest of noise, even in his injured state. Even the quick drawing of his hidden blade sliced through the air without a sound. The only noise that was made, was the silenced gasp of the man as the Assassin reached out, his right hand to the guard's mouth, whilst the blade made home from behind, the slick blade easily slipping past rips to puncture vital organs. The Assassin held the man close to him for a flicker of a second, before releasing him, the guard reaching behind where the blade had struck, before falling back, the poison dipped blade having claimed yet another guard. With a sigh, he grabbed the man's ankles and dragged him to the edge of the roof, the clean cut not spilling a drop of blood, waiting. A small smirk flashed on his lips as he saw a cart filled with straw being moved. With a single kick, the body fell from the roof and landed in the straw, unnoticed by all as it was carried away from the Bureau. Walking over to the entrance of the Bureau with quick steps, the Assassin glanced down to see if any had entered. He was relieved to find it clear. With yet another deep sigh of relief, he walked up to the edge, about ready to jump in when suddenly, his whole world began spinning. A hand went to his head as he tried to will everything to cease. Looking down into the safe confines of the Bureau below, the simple single story jump, suddenly appeared as if it were a five story leap to ones death. Taking a step back away from the edge, his mouth opened to call to the Rafik down within, but before his lips could form the first letter of his name, the world around him went dark.

Malik was busy on correcting one of the many maps that needed looking over again. Setting the quill down with a soft sigh, he pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes squinting shut. "The bells have been ringing for quite some time now... where _is_ he?" He then sighed deeply as he lowered his hand, his gaze trailing down to the map before him, _He should have returned by now... Has something happened?_ As if to answer his question, a loud _thump_ came from the room over where the Assassin's entered and rested before and after missions. Jumping greatly from the sudden noise, his hand instinctively went to the hilt of his sword he kept hidden behind the desk. Eyes narrowed as he slowly walked over towards the doorway, glancing around the corner. He was expecting it to be a novice or two groaning while getting to their feet since they were the only ones to make such a racket upon entering, but was surprised to see no one in the room, nor a sound of any sorts save for the water coming from the one working fountain, the bells in the distance, and the chimes that he grew to enjoy while at the Bureau. Drawing his sword still, however, he only took two steps into the room before his eyes went to the heap on the hard floor. It only took an instant to see it was a fellow brother, but he was not expecting it to be who it was. Another step closer, and the blood stained robes hit full recognition. "Altaïr!?" Dropping his sword with an echoing clatter, Malik ran over to the others side. He was laying on his stomach, not responding to his name being cried out in shock. Malik felt a growing fear for his friend upon seeing his once white robes, now drenched in blood. With slight difficulty, Malik managed to turn the fallen Assassin over onto his side, his eyes growing wide as he saw the condition his friend was in. Blood was leaking from the corner of his mouth, while a thin line of blood trickled down his left temple from under the hood. Gently, he rolled him over onto his back. Using great care, he moved his hand up to gently push back the others white hood from his head, revealing the nasty wound where the blood was trailing from, before sliding his hand down to the side of his blood-splattered neck, thumb tracing the blood on the others jawline. Running his thumb through the red substance, Malik made a slight face upon finding a small cut where the blood was oozing from. Shaking his head slowly, he gently laid the others head down and retreated back into the far room, returning with a few pieces of cloth. He walked over to the working fountain in the resting area, holding two pieces of the material he brought with him under the seemingly endless stream of water until they were completely soaked, before moving back towards Altaïr and kneeling by his side once more. "Seems you have gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, my friend..." He spoke in a soft tone, not even sure the other heard his quiet words in his loss of consciousness. He began to gently wipe the blood from the others face with one of the dampened cloths, causing the injured Assassin to stir slightly. Malik felt his breath get caught in his throat as Altaïr's eyes twitched, before slowly fluttering open with a weary groan.

It only took the Assassin a few blurry seconds to realize someone was touching him, even if it was with great care. Alarmed, Altaïr struggled against the gentle touches of Malik, his right hand instinctively going for a dagger on his belt. Malik caught onto the motion and reached out, firmly grasping Altaïr's hand with his own, unfortunately causing the other to hiss out in pain, "Relax, brother. You are safe now..."

It seemed as though Altaïr was having difficulty trying to register the other. However, even though Malik's face was a dark blur to him, his voice, he could never mistaken. "Mal..." he breathed out heavily, his body soon growing slightly slack against the others.

Malik's eyes, though still holding deep anger towards the one before him, also held a spark of concern for his dear friend, "Altaïr... what happened to you?" The Assassin laying before him merely shook his head, eyes squeezing shut from the pain he was obviously in. Malik watched the other for a few seconds before his gaze trailed skyward, watching the opening for any signs if the wounded Assassin was followed. He would have to close it off. When Altaïr began moving, was when Malik broke his gaze and glanced down. Altaïr had moved his right hand to his belt, pushing his fingers past the rough material between the belt and robe, seconds later producing a messy, white feather, covered in blood. Malik knew it was not Altaïr's blood that adorned the feather, but the blood of his target. He held it up to the Rafik, his eyes growing heavy with fatigue. It seemed as if Altaïr was about to try to speak, but Malik shook his head. With a look of concentration, Malik hushed Altaïr, taking the feather from him and laying it next to him as he looked up through the opening in the ceiling once again, "We will discuss that later. Right now, you need help." The bells still rung through out the city as the sun began falling, casting dark shadows over all the Bureau. The shouts of the guards could also still be heard off in the near distance, which began to worry the Bureau leader. Looking back down at Altaïr, Malik leaned close, speaking in a hushed tone, "They are close. I must move you further inside, Altaïr." The concern Malik was feeling was too over powering for him to have noticed the way Altaïr reacted to his hot breath ghosting over his ear. With a little bit of difficulty, Malik managed to get Altaïr up to his feet, walking him ever so slowly through the doorway which lead into where Malik usually stood behind the long, wooden desk, a large pool of blood remaining where the Assassin was lying on the floor. He took note of the heavy limp to the Assassin's steps, mentally reminding himself to look over his legs as well as the rest of his body for injuries. Glancing around, he walked his injured friend over towards a long, wooden table that sat against the wall, gently laying him down on top of it. Altaïr hissed from the contact the table made with his still burning back, causing him to arch his body more into Malik's own, his left hand grasping the back of the others robes tightly.

He couldn't quite understand why, but Malik felt his face heat up greatly as Altaïr pulled himself a little closer to his chest, the deep, ragged panting coming from the Assassin furthering the pink hue across his features. Clearing his throat a little too loudly, Malik managed to pull himself away from Altaïr, not being able to bring himself to make eye contact with the other man. "I must tend to your wounds..." Just by the simplest glance of his robes, he was going to need a great amount of salve and bandages. "But first, I must ensure we are not interrupted." Pulling himself completely away from the tight grasp of the Assassin, he hastily walked around the corner, disappearing into the room they came from. Altaïr was far beyond being coherent enough to have heard the noises of Malik sealing off the entrance to the Bureau, locking it tight so no guards could enter. He then returned, giving Altaïr a quick glance before moving back behind the desk, returning moments later with a wooden box in hand. He sat down on one of the stools next to Altaïr, the box on the other, digging around in it until his hand first produced a bottle of salve, then a few rolls of white bandages which he sat next to the box for later. Malik's face twisted of mild frustration as he began planning out just how he was to do this. He was still getting used to his... _mild disability_. Altaïr turned his head to the side, seeing the troubled expression on his friend's face. He then turned away, his stomach suddenly feeling horribly ill as an enormous wave of guilt flooded through out his entire being.

Malik noticed the ill look on his friend's face as he sat up, placing his hand on the others shoulder gently. "Just relax, my friend." He whispered. Moving away slightly, his first target was the hastily bandaged thigh. With almost too much ease, Malik was able to pull the bloodied cloth from around the wound, tossing it to the ground with a wet splat. It had absorbed so much blood, that it was dripping it when he pulled it away and dropped it. He leaned close to the wound, Altaïr's deep, labored panting causing him to take extra care around the injury. Leaning back, he smiled, "It is not as bad as it feels. You won't lose it." Even though it was meant to be a joke, Altaïr looked away, the guilt obvious in his eyes. Malik hesitated for a second with the next few words he must say, for what reason, he couldn't quit understand. That, or he was choosing to not believe the reasoning he was beginning to think. Altaïr did not look to him, even after feeling his hand upon his shoulder once again, "Your wounds seem worse on your back. I must remove your robes to treat them..." His voice carried much uncertainty in it, and he knew Altaïr picked up on it, for he looked over to him, his eyes holding an emotion he had never seen before, nor place a name of what it was at the moment. With a hasty nod, Altaïr pushed himself up on his elbows, hissing between his teeth as his body began screaming at him for moving.

Malik made quick with his actions at first, undoing the Assassin's broad, dagger lined belt with ease and quickness. However, once his eyes laid to rest on the blood red strip of material that was tied around the others waist, keeping the robe secured, he felt his face heat up a few degrees more than before, his fingers beginning to tremble slightly just above the piece of fabric. Shaking his head once to clear it of any thoughts other than helping his friend, he grasped the fabric, giving it a good tug. It fell away from the Assassin's waist as if it were alive, falling to the table before sliding off to the floor. The blood stained robe flowed a little more loosely away from the battered body beneath it, a small sigh of relief coming from Altaïr at his body no longer being confined as much. Malik swallowed hard as the sigh that escaped Altaïr brushed his face, his hot breath not helping his features cool down the slightest. With a deep intake of breath, Malik moved his trembling hand up to the front of Altaïr's robes. Rather uncomfortably at first, Malik managed to get the robes undone, gently pushing them back and over Altaïr's shoulders. It was almost as if the robes were teasing the Bureau leader, for it slid down the Assassin's well toned and handsomely muscular arms at a painfully slow rate, before finally pooling around his elbows. His face felt like it was on fire, not caused only by the confusing feelings he was suddenly having towards his friend, but also at the embarrassment of the fact that Altaïr was picking up on what was troubling him so, for the bastard was beginning to smirk at him. Malik cleared his throat, not realizing he was staring at what the robes had exposed of Altaïr's chest, which didn't seem like it suffered too much damage, just some deep bruising. "Lean up a little... so I can remove your robes fully to get to the wounds on your back." All he got from the Assassin was a nod before he reached out and grasped the Rafik's back, pulling himself closer.

"I... need help..." He whispered, hissing in the others ear from the pain, but also from something else. Malik swallowed hard, nodding a little slowly as he reached behind Altaïr and began pulling at his robes. It was a slow struggle, for the material began sticking to the bloodied wounds that littered the younger Assassin's back. Malik let out a small victorious sound as he managed to get a small section freed from a rather large and deep gash that ran across Altaïr's shoulder blades. A sharp intake of air was heard as Altaïr's grip on Malik's right shoulder tightened, his body arching into Malik's chest as the pain from the material being pried free from the wound ran through out his body. During the actions, Malik froze, waiting for Altaïr to relax before he tried to remove the clothing any further. After a few long seconds, Altaïr breathed an OK for him to continue, taking deep breaths to remain calm and still.

After fighting with the clothing for about ten more minutes, which was past between the two in silence save for the sudden sharp gasps here and there from Altaïr, the bloodied robes were just about free when the young Assassin felt the silence was about to drive him mad, "Malik... there is something I must say." He gasped after saying the others name, causing him to jump due to him concentrating so intently on the task at hand.

After a softly breathed apology from the younger male, Malik paused, looking down at Altaïr. In order to get to the robes, he had to carefully straddle the other so he could work on the clothing at an easier angle, and to also give Altaïr something to grab onto to help ease the pain, which he still help a firm grip on the back of Malik's robes. "What is it, brother?"

Altaïr was quiet for a moment, trying to think of how he wished to word what he wanted to say, "I've been a fool." Came the soft response after another silent moment was passed between the two.

Malik blinked, eying Altaïr closely for a few long and intense seconds before going back to the current task he had before him. "Normally I would make no argument, but what is this? What are you talking about?"

Altaïr, once again, went silent for a few moments, his jaw clenching and unclenching as the robes were pulled free from yet another deep gash, this time on his lower back. Finally, he took a deep breath, closing his eyes as the grip he had on Malik tightened without him realizing it, "All this time, I never told you I was sorry... too damn proud. You lost your arm because of me, lost Kadar."

Malik was at a loss for words. His actions halted and he leaned back, gazing into the tightly closed eyes of his friend. He wasn't sure what to say at first, not expecting this at all, certainly not now of all times. After a few seconds, he blinked, pulled from his shock when he felt Altaïr tighten the grip he had on his shoulder. He then narrowed he eyes, returning to work on removing the material. "I do not accept your apology." He said, tone holding an uncertain emotion.

Altaïr felt his chest tighten greatly, as if a great fist closed around the beating organ within and was squeezing it tightly, eyes opening wide for a second before they half lidded, his body being attacked by all new emotions at once. He suddenly felt as if he could no longer breathe, his heart beating so heavy as if it were being weighed greatly with chains. He could think of nothing to say for what seemed like an eternity, his gaze moving to his lap, which then moved to the still bleeding wound on his thigh. He could not understand why he was so devastated by the response he was sure he would get. Just... _hearing_ it spoken from Malik... he felt as if his heart was just stabbed by the very hidden blade he has used on countless people before him. Finally, he found the strength to speak, even if it were only two words, "I understand." He whispered, his tone holding the obvious devastation his heart was feeling.

Malik blinked, pausing to look down at his friend beneath him once more. He was rather surprised to have heard the great deal of pain in Altaïr's voice, and it wasn't caused by the wounds on his body. He watched the other closely, a small smile coming to his lips as he went back to work on what was left of the robes, "No... you don't. I do not accept your apology because you are not the same man that went with me into Solomon's Temple. So you have nothing to apologize for."

Altaïr gasped to himself, looking up at Malik with shock flashing in his eyes. He stared at his friend for a few seconds, not being able to believe he heard him right. "Malik..." was all he was able to say, not being able to think of anything else. The weight around his heart was suddenly lifted, making it so much easier for him to breathe as well.

Malik still smiled as he managed to peel a little more of the robes away from Altaïr's body, "Perhaps if had I not been so envious of you, I would not have gotten so careless myself. I am just as much to blame." He spoke in a soft tone, making brief eye contact with the still shocked Altaïr, his lips still curled in the small smile.

Altaïr shook his head, the grip he had on Malik's robes tightening greatly, "Don't say such things." His voice held a tone that neither he nor Malik were familiar with, which intrigued them both greatly.

"We are one, Altaïr. As we share the glory of victory, so too should we share the pain of defeat. In this way we grow closer, we grow stronger." Malik spoke softly as he managed to pull the remainder of the robes from the wounds, pulling it away from Altaïr's body and discarding the ruined garments to the floor with a satisfied sigh.

Altaïr let a small hiss escape his lips as the material was freed from his wounds at last, his back already feeling so much better now that the wounds could breathe. He glanced up at Malik, taking note of how much more color came to his face as he glanced away from Altaïr's now completely exposed chest. "Thank you, Malik."

Malik said nothing more, all he did was nod once, not turning to face Altaïr. After a second, he bent over to reach for the salve, "I must clean and dress your wounds now that they are uncovered. You were reckless, Altaïr."

Altaïr groaned, knowing he was to be scolded about being reckless. However, he smiled, being so relieved of Malik's forgiving him. As he watched Malik bending for the jar of salve, something clicked inside Altaïr, something he couldn't explain as he acted upon it. Reaching out, he gently placed his right hand on Malik's left arm where the sleeve was pinned up, just above where the rest of the limb was lost. The touch caused the other to halt, tensed up, not turning his head as his eyes glanced over to the Assassin. No words were said between the two as Malik turned his head to Altaïr, the other glancing from the one's arm and into his eyes. It was almost as if everything they were questioning about each other, the feelings they were experiencing, the emotions they were beginning to go mad from, all of it made perfect sense the moment their eyes locked.

Altaïr tightened the grip he had on Malik's robes, pulling himself up with a deep intake of air as he pressed his lips to the others roughly, both surprised, and not as Malik pushed back with equal force. Without even realizing what his body was doing, Malik was pushing against Altaïr's, the other having to prop himself up on his right elbow as his left hand began pulling the robes off the Bureau leader's shoulder. Malik's hand reached over Altaïr's arm, his palm coming into contact with the deep wounds on the Assassin's back. Altaïr's body tensed up, a hiss escaping their lips as he slid his tongue between his lips, trailing the muscle along the lips of his friend. Malik did not hesitate to allow the Assassin entry, parting his lips enough for Altaïr's tongue to slip past, the two muscle's wrestling each other in a heated dance of passion. The metallic taste that invaded Malik's taste buds did nothing to alter the effect of feeling Altaïr's tongue wrapping around his own. A moan vibrated in the back of Malik's throat, earning a smirk from Altaïr as he kissed him harder, pulling him closer to his injured body. Once Malik's brain managed to catch up to his actions, and registered the sudden warm wetness that covered his palm, he pulled away from Altaïr, lifting his hand up to see it covered in the younger Assassin's blood. A scowl came to Malik's face as he tried to push himself away from the other. How he longed not to, how he just wished to continue. But the others wounds were bad, and had already lost consciousness once before. It was only a matter of time before it occurred again. A shear coating of sweat was already covering the injured Assassin's body, giving it a slight shine amongst the shimmering of the blood. Altaïr held fast to Malik when he made the motion to bend over. The Bureau leader glanced into the others eyes, seeing them wild and full of lust. Something he had never seen before, and absolutely _loved_. "Your wounds-" Malik began, but was silenced by a quick, yet deep kiss from the other.

"They are fine." Altaïr gasped between the bruising kiss, beginning to rather enjoy the pain he was in. It helped add more to the emotions he was feeling. But if anything, it was helping him stay in focus, keeping his mind from thinking this was all just a dream. He then cracked a small smile, forcing a chuckle out. "I rather enjoy how it feels when your touches cause my body to burn."

Malik let out a huff, smirking himself as his own lustful longings were beginning to cloud his better judgment. "Altaïr... I never thought you the type to enjoy pain." He teased, still reaching for the salve. He could see the pain reflecting in the others eyes, no matter how strong and bold he was trying to be.

Altaïr moved his hand from his shoulder, and grasped the hand reaching for the salve. He then brought Malik's hand to his chest, holding it in place for a few seconds. Swallowing hard, Malik broke free from the loose grasp Altaïr had on his hand, trailing it, palm down, against his well trained chest, his fingertips ghosting over the bruised flesh. Altaïr sucked in a deep breath as his sore muscles contracted to the slightest touches Malik placed on him, his eyes not once breaking the trance-like stare Malik was giving him, until a sudden gasp escaped past the Assassin's slightly parted lips as Malik's hand ghosted its way down towards the front of his pants, causing his body to grow tense. Once he knew he had the Assassin's attention, his eyes asked the question his mouth failed to speak for him, Altaïr's eyes answering the unspoken question. After making sure Altaïr was OK with being touched in such a private area, Malik put a little more pressure against his growing erection, earning a hiss of pleasure from the one beneath him. Altaïr clenched his sore jaw, trying to stifle any further noises he may make, regardless if they were from pleasure or pain, just out of habit he'd developed over the years of being an Assassin.

Malik knew his body wasn't well enough for anything too intense, but he couldn't just leave Altaïr in the current state of arousal he was in. And shifting his weight to one side, he found that he, too, was in the same state as the younger male beneath him. For now, rubbing their erections out was the best plan at the moment, giving the circumstances. At least until Altaïr recovered enough. Even though this was all new to the both of them, it was almost as if their hearts were guiding their actions. Malik added more pressure against Altaïr's erection, being rewarded for the action with a deep inhale, followed by a soft moan that was breathlessly whispered past Altaïr's lips. After a seconds hesitation, Malik began moving his hand back and forth, keeping the pressure against the still growing bulge under his hand. As the Bureau leader's pace quickened, Altaïr's head tilted back, exposing his neck. Malik glanced up, his mouth moving automatically towards the exposed flesh. Altaïr jumped, gasping as the wet warmth of Malik's mouth clasped around a rather sensitive spot of his neck, the pounding of his heart being felt by Malik as his tongue licked at the spot where his teeth bit into the flesh, sucking and nibbling as he worked the trapped flesh into a bruise Altaïr wasn't planning on complaining about. While Malik worked on his neck, his hand quickened it's pace, sending shock waves of pleasure through out Altaïr's battered and beaten body. The intensity of emotions rushing through his veins, caused his body to begin jerking, which in turned caused the wounds to stretch and ache. Malik was about to halt his ministrations when he heard a pained whimper in the back of Altaïr's throat, but was completely knocked off track when the Assassin moved his left hand from his shoulder, to his own throbbing erection, mimicking the motions he was doing to him. A gasp came from Malik as he nearly doubled over in pleasure as Altaïr added more pressure, fingers squeezing the bulge after every few strong strokes. He was taken a back with how much strength the other had in his injured state. The warming sensation was beginning to boil, causing Malik's vision to slightly blur as he leaned forward, his head resting against Altaïr's right shoulder. At that moment, he was rather grateful for the strength Altaïr still possessed, for it was basically he who was holding them both up now. Malik no longer held the strength to keep himself upright as he felt his climax approaching. He wanted to keep going, but with the amount of pressure and the pace of Altaïr's motions, it was driving him closer to the edge faster than he'd like.

He could also feel Altaïr's body beginning to tremble and tense up under his own, signs that he, too, was nearly at his end. With renewed strength, Malik quickened his pace, adding twice the amount of pressure than before, which caused Altaïr to cry out in pure pleasure. Suddenly, the Assassin's strength failed him at that moment, his elbow giving way to their weight. With an erotic cry mixed of pain and pleasure, Altaïr's elbow slipped, causing him to fall onto his bloodied back with Malik collapsing on top of him. Though the pain was nearly unbearable, both were too far lost in the intensity of feelings they were experiencing, the two not once slowing in the pleasure they were giving the other. Altaïr's right hand reached up and behind Malik, grabbing a fist full of the older male's cloak, pulling him closer to his body as he leaned up, kissing his passionately. Soon, Altaïr's battered body could no longer take the immense pleasure it was receiving amongst the pain, and with a few more strong strokes delivered by Malik, the Assassin's body locked, finding the intense release as he was pushed over the edge. Caught in the throes of his orgasm, Altaïr buried his face in Malik's neck, clinging to him tightly while breathing deeply, no longer able to remain silent as he road out his climax.

Malik's face flushed with the sounds coming from Altaïr. The moaning and whimpering, it was like nothing he had ever heard from the man before. He had heard him breathing deeply before during training, but never anything like this. Between the deep panting from the other, and the strong strokes he was still receiving from the spent Assassin, Malik could no longer stay strong. His body tensed up, his muscles contracting to a nearly painful point as he reached the peak of pleasure. All it took for the Rafik to find his release, was the breathless whisper of his name from the man he found he loved as more than a friend and brother. The instant he spent himself, it was as if his brain clicked and realized where he was about to collapse all of his weight upon. Somehow regaining renewed strength, Malik caught himself before his entire body fell on top of the injured one below him. The only sounds to fill the Bureau at the moment, were the Bureau chimes that first gave Altaïr hope that he'd survive his wounds, the flowing water, and the deep, ragged breathing from both men as they recovered, catching their breaths. The bells had long ago ceased.

Malik was the first to recover after a few long moments. He pushed himself up, gazing down at the sweaty and bloody body under him. Altaïr was still breathing deeply, his eyes closed tight from the pain his body was reminding him he was still in. No longer being drunk by the pleasure, Altaïr's body was now in twice the amount of pain as before. Feeling guilty for causing more harm to him, Malik pushed himself off and away from Altaïr, bending over and picking up the forgotten salve so he could continue with treating the others wounds, which were now dirty from the table. He then stood to his feet, nearly losing balance from how wobbly his legs felt, earning a chuckle from the Assassin who was still lying on his back, too weak to sit up.

With a huff, Malik sat on the bench next to the other, feeling slightly uncomfortable due to the rather sticky mess he was left in. "It seems your wounds are not the only things needing cleaning and dressing..." Malik breathed, opening the jar of salve and dipping a clean cloth into the clear, orderless gel. Altaïr could only chuckle before hissing from the stinging sensation that the healing salve brought onto his wounds as it cleansed the deep cuts and gashes of the drying blood, dirt and wood chips from the table.

By the time Malik had Altaïr's wounds cleaned and dressed, as well as having _other_ things cleaned and dressed, it was well into the night. Altaïr walked over with a slight limp to where Malik stood behind his desk, looking over the same map from when he first arrived. Sensing the others presence, he looked up from the piece of parchment, a smile on his face, "How are your wounds, brother?" Altaïr couldn't help but feel his face heat up, forcing himself to nod as his only response, earning a chuckle from the Rafik as he placed the quill back in the ink well. "That is good." Altaïr was racking through his brain, trying to think of something he could say. Of all the times he was quick with his tongue, words failed him at that very moment in time. Malik seemed to have picked up on the others inner turmoil with himself, so he chuckled and walked around his desk. Placing his fingers to Altaïr's chin, he forced the other to look him in the eyes, "Rest if you need to, Altaïr, that you might be prepared for what lies ahead." Was all he said, before leaning up and placing a tender kiss on the Assassin's lips.

To Be Continued...


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a few days since he had arrived at the Jerusalem Bureau nearly dead. Even though the assassination was a success, he had sustained a severe amount of injuries due to a slight miscalculation of the amount of guards surrounding the area. He took in a deep breath as he over looked the busy city from atop the hill, the black and white horse he sat upon enjoying a small patch of grass as it stood off to the side in the shade, allowing the steady flow of people to walk by them without even passing them a glance. His hooded eyes scanned the city walls, already knowing how he was to gain entry to the large city. Spotting the Scholars who stood off to the side of one of the city's main entrances, almost as if they were awaiting for his arrival, he gave the reins of the horse a gentle flick, clicking his tongue while giving his body a slight jerk, pulling the reluctant horse away from the grassy patch and on a slow, steady pace towards the men in the white robes, making sure to steer clear of those walking by. As the horse made it's way down the path, slowing as they came up to a small camp of guards, his mind began going over the decision for his unannounced return. He had to return to Masyaf, which was the opposite of Jerusalem, but he felt he had the time to make the... _slight_ detour and pay a visit to his friend. The one who had treated his wounds. He felt his face heat up as he began remembering the things that took place that evening, trying to figure out if they were memories of an event that actually took place, or if they were just fabricated daydreams his weak mind polluted him with while he was floating between the balance of life and death. He bowed his head when one of the many guards looked his way, trying to tell if he was a threat or not. Opting that he was not worth his concern, the guard shrugged and turned back to the lot he was speaking to when one elbowed him, asking if he understood the joke that he clearly missed while checking out the Assassin.

Feeling it was safe, he raised his head enough for his dark eyes to scan the area. Dozens of people walked about, either talking to one another or just walking off into the desert. He looked to his left, pleased to see the Scholars were a ways from the large crowd. They lifted their heads once they heard the hoofed foot falls of the Assassin's horse, greeting him with a smile as one reached out and placed his hand on the horse's cheek, helping to ease it's nerves that were beginning to grow wild from the large amount of people and the noises surrounding it. "We have been awaiting for your safe return." The one who was calming the horse spoke in a low tone, his smile wide. He watched as the Assassin observed his surroundings, before dismounting the horse, "Is there anything we may do to aide you, my friend?" He asked after a second of watching the Assassin correcting his belt as it had gotten a little lopsided from the rough horse ride through the Templar infested Kingdom.

He glanced at the Scholar who was holding onto the reins of his horse, his eyes masked by his hood. Though the Scholars could not see his eyes, they knew they held no malice. Looking between them all, he finally gave the heavily guarded entrance a glance. "I wish for entry into Jerusalem."

"Very well." They did not question, nor argue. They knew the Assassin was their greatest ally, and would do anything to help him, regardless of how big or small the task was.

Giving the horse one last pat, the leading Scholar gave the other three men a nod, before they formed a circle around the Assassin, each of them bowing their heads and folding their hands together as if in prayer. With flawless movements, the five of them walked on, approaching the entrance to the large, bustling city of Jerusalem. The guards did not bother to give each Scholar a thorough search as they moved out of their way, not coming into any form of contact as the robed men slowly walked by. Off in the distance, the Assassin could hear his horse trying to reach him, but being stopped and tied to a tree by one of the guards. _ I am grateful he put her under shade and near hay._ he thought to himself as they passed the second line of guards. Once inside the city, they walked over to an ally where the Scholars knew their friend could safely blend out of their group unnoticed. Arriving at the mouth of the ally, the Assassin stepped out in one fluent motion, blending in with the rest of the people walking among the streets. "Be safe, my friend." He smiled to himself after hearing the caring words from the leading Scholar as they made a small circle, making their rounds through out the city, ready to aide him again should he run into any form of trouble. Letting out a small sigh, he glanced up, getting his bearings of the city. Once he found where he was, he headed off into the direction of the Bureau, where both his friend, and answers to the many questions he had floating around in his head, awaited.

Not running into any trouble while making his way to the Assassin's Bureau, he smiled faintly as the familiar sounds of the chimes began to lure him in the direction of the entrance. Climbing the ladder that was leaning against the building in the small alcove, he waited before fully reaching the top, making sure the area was clear of any guards that could have been near by. Seeing none, he hoisted himself up with the soft sound of his robes shifting. Once he stood at the mouth of the entrance, he hesitated, trying to think if what he was about to do was wise. He was _certain_ that the intimacy that he thought happened between he and the current Bureau leader had actually taken place. He remembered apologizing for everything that had happened to him. And he remembered everything that happened _after_ the apology was... somewhat accepted. The pain was certainly real... and the pleasure felt just as real. Once again, he felt his face grow hotter, and it wasn't due to the hottest peak of the day. With a deep intake of hot air, he swallowed hard, his dry throat aggravating him slightly as he gracefully leaped down into the safety of the Bureau, landing soundlessly where he had collapsed during his last visit. He slowly stood upright, training his ears to see if his noiseless entrance some how still alerted the other. A small smile came to his lips when he heard the all too familiar sounds of Malik working on one of the many maps he had that surrounded him. Was that all he did? Standing upright, the Assassin made sure his robes were presentable... something he _never_ bothered with, before walking proudly through the resting area, standing still in the doorway.

Sure enough, Malik was leaning over the desk with an ink tipped quill in hand which hovered over a large piece of parchment before him. The Assassin waited, seeing how long it took for his presence to reach the other. It took no longer then a few seconds before Malik paused, blinking as he looked up towards the entrance with a look between mild shock, and alertness. He gave the Assassin a smile that he had never before seen on his friend's face, causing his cocky stance to faultier slightly, his face heating up once more. _ Is it all true then...?_

"Altaïr? And what do I owe the honor of a surprise visit from thee?" Malik teased, chuckling while placing the quill back in the ink well next to the map, before walking around the desk and through the small gate, standing before the Assassin. "Are you not on a mission?"

Altaïr glanced away, "I am to return to Masyaf."

Malik seemed to have grown slightly saddened by the fact, his bright smile fading slightly. "Oh, well then why have you come here? You are a long ways from Masyaf." He started, trying to keep his disappointment hidden from the other, even though he failed. He then attempted to tease the other, "Are you lost, Altaïr? Need a map?"

Altaïr looked back to him, a small smirk on his face, "I know where it is. Am I not allowed to come and visit when I please?" He retorted, trying to will his body to stop becoming so damn hot just by the presence of his friend. Malik laughed, waving his hand in the air dismissively before walking over into the resting area, motioning for Altaïr to follow. The Assassin did not hesitate with taking the enticing invitation as he walked after Malik rather briskly, waiting and watching where he was going to sit. Malik took a seat on the rugs, his back up against the many plush pillows that lined the wall. He waited for a moment, watching to see if Altaïr was going to seat himself. He chuckled and patted the spot to his right, again motioning for the other to follow, only this time to sit next to him. Once again, Altaïr was pulled towards Malik as if put under a spell of some sort, walking over to him and sitting, rather closely, next to him without having to command his body to move. He was slightly confused for a moment when Malik smiled after he sat down, only to stand again and walk over to the working fountain. His confusion was put to rest once he saw him returning with a clay cup of water, holding it out to him.

"Drink. It is unusually hot out today. You should be careful not to dehydrate yourself, brother." Malik smiled as Altaïr took the cup, thanking him before drinking it's contents. The fresh, cold water stung his parched throat, but through the pain, it felt and tasted wonderful. He took a seat next to the Assassin once again, watching him for a moment before his gaze trailed up to the blue sky. After a few moments of silence was passed between the two, Altaïr lowered the empty cup, staring inside at the rough bottom. Malik's smile remained on his face as he leaned back more comfortably against the cushions, moving his arm behind his head with a yawn.

Altaïr looked from the cup to his friend, the corner of his lips turning up in a small smile, "You seem tired, have you not been resting well?" He leaned over to his right, gently setting the cup down on the floor with a soft clatter. He then leaned back, turning to face Malik who was now fully relaxed, resting his eyes. He watched him, the smile still in place while leaning, ever so slowly, closer to the other body.

Malik simply shrugged his left shoulder, before chuckling out his reply, "My nights have been plagued by worry for you." He laughed as a loud huff of air was his only response from Altaïr, who, at that reply, pushed himself away from the other. The mood was killed for the moment.

"Well you need not worry about me. I am quite capable of watching for myself." Altaïr breathed under his breath, finding Malik's relaxed pose to be quite nice, so allowed his own tensed body to relax with a tired sigh. His entire being ached from always being so uptight and alert.

Malik opened his right eye, glancing at the Assassin lying next to him. He then chuckled as he pushed himself over a little, leaning close to the other, "Oh really? Says the one who came to me nearly bled out only nights ago." He grinned, eying the other closely. Altaïr sat up, looking down upon his friend with a glare, who began laughing even harder from the look. Malik quieted his laughing, gazing up at the sky once more with a content sigh. He watched as the clouds lazily crossed the sky, blocking out the sun for a few well appreciated seconds. Nothing was spoken between them as he rested his eyes once more, enjoying the sounds of the water and chimes. The air was hot, but not too unbearably deep within the confines of the Bureau. However, it was helping him relax further than he'd wished. He was just about to doze off, when the shifting of the other beside him stirred him. He opened his eyes, gazing up to see a rather troubled looking Altaïr. "What troubles you, brother?" He knew Altaïr enough to know when something was bothering him. He sat up a little when the other said nothing, "Altaïr... there is something that troubles you. I will be honest and say that I have not seen you this bothered for quite sometime..." Sitting completely up when he still got no reply from the Assassin, he placed his hand on the others shoulder, causing him to jump slightly. "Altaïr... this is not like you." Their eyes connected. Malik tightened the grip he had on the others shoulder, his eyes pleading for the other to open up to him. After a few long seconds of staring, Altaïr was the first to break away, turning his head and lowering it enough for his eyes and blushing cheeks to be concealed by his hood. Malik blinked, surprised by the others actions. After a seconds hesitation, he moved his hand to allow his fingers to cup Altaïr's chin, gently trying to will the other to look at him again, only to be saddened by the restraint the other held. Finally, he sighed, removing his touch from the others chin and letting his hand fall into his lap, staring down at it, "This is about what happened... when you were injured."

Altaïr blinked, barely turning his head to gaze at Malik from just under the brim of the hood. The Bureau leader's face held a pink tint to it, a look of embarrassment and unassurance dancing in his eyes as he fumbled with a piece of his robes absentmindedly. Watching him for a few more seconds, Altaïr swallowed, "Your touches... they only further confuse me." He finally whispered, immediately regretting how he worded it.

For Malik was pushed up and away from him, a look of hurt flashing across his face. "What do you mean _confuse_ you? What is there to be confused by?! Do you not remember what happened-!?" He cut himself off, his face red from both anger, and embarrassment. He turned away, about to get to his feet when suddenly he felt a strong hand to his shoulder. Altaïr then tugged him back down and against him, moving him so he was nearly in the Assassin's lap, Altaïr resting his forehead against Malik's back, between his shoulder blades. His eyes were full of uncertainty as he thought about what he was going to say. The other didn't give him the time to think as he began pushing against him. "Release me, Altaïr. I-I have much work to do. As do you, I am sure." He tried in vein to struggle against the others much stronger grasp, having an even more difficult time when Altaïr wrapped his arms around his waist, holding him tightly in place against him. With great difficulty, he turned his head around, trying to see the Assassin's face, which all he saw was his white hood. "Altaïr!" He waited, feeling the body beneath him starting to tremble in the slightest, which was extremely unusual for him.

After a second more of nothing being said or done, Altaïr took in a deep breath, "I did not mean it in that sense, my friend. It is just..." His eyes narrowed at himself, not believing how weak he was being. He held onto Malik tightly, causing a slight gasp to escape the Bureau leader. When Altaïr spoke next, his voice was just loud enough for only the ears of Malik to hear, "What happened... did it _truly_? Was it not just my weak mind playing tricks on me?" His voice held a sort of scared weakness in it, one that made Malik understand that those thoughts were truly the cause of the great amount of stress the Assassin seemed to have been under as of late.

His eyes half lidded as he heard his friend out, coming to understand the troubles that were harassing the Master Assassin so deeply. He felt a twinge of guilt for being so harsh on him before fully understanding his problems. Altaïr was severely injured when he came to him, so naturally, he was very disoriented. Surely the... _events_ that transpired that evening could have easily been confused between reality and a hallucination. With a deep sigh, Malik placed his hand over both of Altaïr's, grasping them tightly within his own. The simple touch caused the Assassin to freeze, holding his breath as if in great fear for what the Bureau leader had to say. "Altaïr... is that what troubles you?" He didn't wait for a response as he used his hand to pry the others from around his waist, just enough to give him some room to maneuver so that he was partially facing the Assassin now, who refused to make eye contact. "Altaïr," His tone was filled with a hint of seductiveness to it, causing the younger of the two to glance up, his eyes just barely visible to the other. Malik's smile quickly turned into a smirk once he saw the other gazing up at him, "would you like me to help ease your mind?" Without another word or waiting for the other to respond, Malik moved his hand to the Assassin's chin, lifting his head enough to allow their lips to roughly meet. Altaïr didn't hesitate to return the kiss with equal force, slipping his right hand free from under Malik's and placing it to his neck, his fingers brushing the others jawline with gentle strokes. It did not take long for their lips to part with muffled moans, tongues meeting halfway to wrestle and dance together in a lustful dance over dominance. A soft sigh passed between the kiss as Malik relaxed against the others body completely, all his weight in the others lap as he felt at ease with the feel of the other kissing him back just as deeply. The entire time Altaïr was gone, his mind was left in a fog, emotions of uncertainty clouding him as he tried to process what had happened that day. But with the other with him, holding and kissing him back, he knew now he could relax. They both could now. With the force that went into the kiss, one would think they were lovers who had been separated for many years. They knew now that, what had happened between them that day, was no accident. Nor a mistake.

Amidst being lost in the kiss, Malik was vaguely becoming aware of the others growing erection as it began pushing against his backside. He moaned, kissing back with more force as he felt himself becoming aroused by the feeling. With it beginning to constantly poke him, his brain began telling him something... Altaïr was, more or less, fully recovered. Well, recovered enough for caution to not have to be taken. A wide grin came to him at the thought. He broke away from the kiss, praying while gazing skyward, that he and Altaïr would not be interrupted by others. The more he thought about it, however, he hadn't received any messages, so as it stood, there would be no visitors. Unless they were unannounced, which did not happen often. Malik was too absorbed in his thoughts, that he didn't realize he had left his neck open for the other to attack. Altaïr watched the other for a few seconds, before his eyes trailed down to the ones exposed neck. Grinning devilishly, he leaned forward with such quick motions, he had the others neck completely subdued before he even realized what was happening. With a surprised squeak, Malik jumped, his hand grasping Altaïr's left hand that was still at his waist tightly, his right still to Malik's jaw. "A-Altaïr!" He gasped, beginning to squirm around in the Assassin's lap. Altaïr began from one side, trailing his teeth and tongue across the skin at an agonizingly slow pace, until he found a particularly sensitive spot. Earning a sudden, deep intake from Malik, Altaïr grinned against his skin, paying extra close attention to the highly sensitive spot he had just discovered. Against the others threat-less warnings to stop, Altaïr sucked in a small section of skin, kneading it gently between his teeth as he began working it into a bruise. A thrill of pleasure coursed though out Malik's body, causing him to push down into the others lap roughly. The motion in turn caused a low gasp from Altaïr as he accidentally bit down too hard, earning a pained whimper from Malik. Licking the bruising flesh apologetically, he began moving to a new location, pleased with the rather large bruise he was sure would form. Malik squirmed against the other a little more roughly, his jaw tightly clenched, soon relaxing it again when it began aching and feeling as if it were about to snap from the strain he was putting it through. Licking his dry lips, Malik made a small noise in the back of his throat, missing the feeling of Altaïr's mouth against his own. No longer being able to take the emptiness against his lips, he broke free from Altaïr's grasp, leaning down and claiming the others lips in a deep, lust filled kiss. Altaïr did not complain about losing his grip on Malik, in fact he was all too happy to return the sudden kiss with an almost hunger like force. Malik's hand left Altaïr's, climbing his body to grasp strongly at the robes of the other, pulling himself as closely as he could. The intense kiss broke, leaving both men panting for air as Malik looked up at the sky once more. Things were beginning to get hot, which was starting to show on Malik's brow as a bead of sweat began trailing downward. He shut his eyes, resting them for a second before opening them once more, gazing down into Altaïr's half covered eyes. That damn hood. It had then dawned to him that he was completely facing the Assassin now, without having to strain his neck or twist his body. Looking down at himself, a deep blush over came him when he saw the position he was in. Some time during the kiss, he had moved around, now facing Altaïr entirely while _straddling_ his lap, without even realizing it. He swallowed deeply while a nervous chuckle escaped him, "W-when did this happen?"

Altaïr said nothing as he moved his hands, wrapping his arms loosely around the Bureau leader's waist, holding him in place should he try to get up. He was pleased that the other made no such motions. Too caught up in the embarrassment that he did not notice himself moving into his current position, Malik wasn't aware of the other giving his neck a look of interest yet again. Before long, his nervous chuckle cut off as a sudden sharp intake was heard, followed by the others name being gasped. His hand moved to Altaïr's back, taking a fistful of his robes as he licked and nibbled his throat, beginning another mark. Altaïr's lips curled into a smug smirk against the flesh as he felt the one in his lap begin squirming once more, pleasing him to know he was winning. He was about to whisper something to the other when suddenly, he nibbled on a spot that made Malik gasp out in surprise. He thrust downward against the Assassin's lap, roughly rubbing their aching erections together in the process. The motion caused a deep grunt from Altaïr, and a second pained whimper from Malik as the Assassin accidentally bit too hard yet again. Pulling away slowly, he gave the abused flesh a tender kiss, before leaning back and viewing his work. He couldn't help but smirk even more as the first was already dark in color. It was located low enough where Malik could hide it if he really wished to... but the second, already forming bruise, was too high up. He couldn't hide it from others unless he wrapped his entire neck up. He was pleased that it was where others would see... not out of knowing the embarrassment that Malik was sure to feel, but at those who saw it, would know that Malik was taken. No one, not even a brother would dare mess with him now. Catching his breath, Malik looked down at Altaïr with a mild look of annoyance at the feeling of his neck all wet and bruising. "Great, now when a brother comes, he will most certainly ask about my neck. I have _you_ to blame." He breathed out, his tone uneven. He then blushed, his nervous gaze yet again trailing skyward. "What if a brother comes and we're-" he trailed off.

Altaïr merely shrugged, chuckling as he pulled the other closer, his arms moving up to Malik's lower back. "Should a brother arrive, he will see it was_ I_ who marked you. He and all others would be fools to mess with you now." He gently nuzzled against Malik's neck, minding the two spots he had sharply bitten down on by accident, pulling him close enough that the gap between them was closed. The body heat coming from the Assassin was so warm and relaxing, Malik couldn't help as a soft, content sigh left his lips. Without another word, he pulled Altaïr forward, kissing him with renewed lust. The room was slowly becoming suffocating between the heat of the day, and heat that was beginning to boil between them. He began growing restless in Altaïr's lap, wiggling around, trying to find comfort that never came between the dreadful heat and his throbbing erection. Each motion earned a soft moan from the younger Assassin, each noise being swallowed by the kiss. Before long, Malik was becoming rather too uncomfortable from the heat, and Altaïr was quick to pick up on his discomfort. Without breaking the kiss, Altaïr moved his hands to Malik's shoulders, gently pushing the dark blue robe off, allowing the material to fall freely. When it got caught around his right elbow, Altaïr worked to gently pull it off, carefully balling it up and setting it to his right. Freed from the heavy garment, Malik sighed into Altaïr's mouth at having a little more air reach his burning body. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at the other, his eyes covered by that cursed hood once again. He could see beads of sweat beginning to trail down the sides of his temples, all the way down to his neck and down passed his robes, both his face and neck displaying a slick layer of sweat, making his skin shimmer in the sunlight. Feeling for him, he moved his hand to the back of Altaïr's hood, pinching the material and pulling it back slowly. He smiled down at Altaïr upon seeing his face, beads of sweat rolling passed his brows. Altaïr's hair was becoming messy and damp from sweat as he looked up at Malik, a grateful look overcoming him as he took in a deep breath, and releasing it as a long sigh through his nose. Though the air was hot, it felt great against his uncovered head as he leaned back slightly. Malik watched him for a second, his smile still in place as he leaned forward slowly, gently kissing the edge of the others lips where the scar stood out against his tan skin.

Altaïr smiled against Malik's lips, moving his hands around the other once more, pulling him closer. The gentle kiss was quick to turn into a heated one, during which Altaïr's right hand trailed up Malik's spine, earning a shiver from him. His hand did not stop when it reached the back of the Dai's neck. Instead, it moved around, his fingers gently sliding across his neck to the front of his throat. He paused for a second, before slowly beginning to trail his hand down the front of Malik's robes. Once his brain managed to register the others touches, Malik's eyes snapped open. With a little difficulty, due to his body not wanting to, Malik broke the kiss, breathing deeply as he regained a small amount of control over himself, "Altaïr, we must go somewhere else." He gave the Bureau a quick glance around, before his eyes fixated on the others once more, "We can not do this here."

Altaïr looked at him with a look between confusion and mild annoyance, "Why not? The Bureau is the safest place for Assassins in all of Jerusalem." He leaned in to kiss Malik once again, but was denied as he pulled back.

"_Exactly!_" He hissed, his breath still coming in deep pants. How was Altaïr able to speak so calmly? "Which means one from the brotherhood could arrive, seeking information from the Bureau leader! _Me!_" He then inhaled deeply, before releasing the breath. Altaïr was just as aggravating to deal with as always, but the stress of it seemed to have doubled when the said Assassin was horny.

Altaïr watched him for a few seconds, before a grin came to his face. Mixed between leaning in, and pulling Malik closer, Altaïr let his lips gently rest against the others neck, nuzzling the slick skin with his nose a little as he spoke in a whisper, his hot breath feeling slightly cool against the sweat. "Malik... you have nothing to fear. When I was approaching the Bureau, I saw no other brothers. As far as I was able to see, you and I are the only Assassins in the city. Even all of the Informers have returned back to Masyaf." He then moved his face up, causing the other to shudder as he breathed hot air against his ear before whispering just as hotly, "As for guards, we can seal the entrance." He then took the others right earlobe between his teeth, kneading it rather roughly. A second, more violent shudder over came Malik's entire being as what Altaïr had said hit him, as well as him nibbling his ear like the way he was. The Assassin then leaned in again, their lips so close. While he spoke, his right hand began trailing down the others robes once more, his fingers lining the rough material of his belt before falling passed it, now ghosting it's way towards the front of his pants, "Should any guards get in, I'll take their lives." Malik couldn't believe how hot his entire body got at that very moment in time. He knew Altaïr would do just as he spoke. Altaïr waited to see if he would argue, smirking when nothing was said. To further provoke the Bureau leader, his hand fell to the others erection, tightly grasping the bulge through the light material of his pants.

Malik hissed out his name, his tone mixed between annoyed surprise and lustful pleasure. "A-Altaïr, your return to Masyaf?"

"It can wait. It is not an important issue." The Assassin gazed down, teeth bared in a seductive smirk, pleased with the reaction he received. Leaning forward, he took the Dai's ear between his teeth yet again, kneading the tender flesh with a little too unnecessary tension, earning an unusual sound from the other man. Malik couldn't resist a shudder that past through his body as Altaïr pushed him back against the carpet, his head lying back on the plush pillows. He gazed up into the others eyes when he released his ear, watching as he pushed himself up on his hands and knees while climbing over him with a hand on either side of his head. He was seeing a side of Altaïr that no one has ever seen before, which in that moment of time he couldn't decide if it were dangerous or not, hearing him make noises no one has ever heard before. Altaïr's right hand moved from beside Malik's head to his chest, slowly sliding down the clothed body beneath his palm until it came to rest on the others belt. With a sly smile, his fingers toyed with the heavy leather, before the piece of hide came lose from Malik's waist. He pulled it away, setting it off to the side before his hand went to the blood red strip of material that held his robes tightly in place at his waist. Malik sighed with slight impatience as Altaïr's quick motions greatly slowed once the knot came undone, watching as the Assassin stared down at the material, as if studying it. He held his breath as Altaïr suddenly began to slowly pull the strip from his waist, allowing his robes to open up freely, no longer hugging his waist. With great care, Altaïr folded the red strip and set it on the belt. He then grinned down at the Bureau leader as both his hands went to his chest. With steady movements, the young Assassin began to slowly undo the ties that held the front of the white robes closed, pushing the material open and revealing the chest beneath it. Altaïr was not the least bit surprised that Malik's body was just as nicely shaped and toned as his own due from all the years of discipline and training. Even if he was the new Dai of the Jerusalem Bureau, Altaïr was sure Malik stole time away from his maps to work out, keeping his body in form. Once his chest was fully exposed, Malik released the breath he had forgotten he was holding, gazing up into the others eyes with impatience. Altaïr was studying his body, his lips pulled back in a sly yet gentle smile as his fingertips gently grazed the tanned skin that lay under him. After a few seconds, Altaïr leaned away, confusion in Malik's eyes until he felt the other pulling at his boots. He pushed himself up on his elbow, his white robes falling off his shoulder to pool around his elbow, watching as Altaïr set the pair off to the side, taking care as he did so. Malik was surprised with how gentle and caring the other was being with his belongings, believing Altaïr to have been the type to just throw things around aimlessly in such a strong state of arousal. But he had so much self control over his actions.

He certainly was not the same man that went with him into Solomon's Temple.

He was soon pulled from his thoughts when Altaïr placed a hand to the waistline of his pants. A small gasp escaping him as Altaïr tugged teasingly, the smirk on his face giving away the mischievousness of his actions. Before Malik could say a word, Altaïr leaned forward, a hand to the white robes that still hung on his left shoulder, causing the other to tense up, knowing what was to come. With tender touches, Altaïr gently grabbed the material, curious as to what it had gotten caught up on. Using great care, he slowly pushed the fabric off his shoulder, the robe falling to pool around Malik's waist since there was no longer a limb for it to get caught on. Altaïr felt the other tense up greatly, causing a frown to come to his face. The wound that Malik had suffered from because of him, was still wrapped in bandages, though was healed enough that his blood no longer stained the white bandages. Seeing Malik's robes pinned up where his arm should have been made him feel guilty enough... but to actually be sitting there, the bandaged wound before him, it was almost too much to bare. He took a deep, silent breath, his hand unconsciously going to the wound, "Malik, I am-"

"I told you before, brother," Malik interrupted him, his tone stern as he looked away, flinching slightly when he felt the others gentle touch to what was left of his arm, "you do not have anything to apologize for." His tone held a hint of pain at the touches placed on his arm, just above the wound, no matter how gentle they were. Altaïr lowered his head, as well as his hand as he leaned back. Malik blinked, glancing over at the other when he felt him move away. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, assaulting any part of the Assassin he could reach, which began with his jawline, with his mouth. Unbeknown to others in the brotherhood, Malik had become extremely self conscious about himself after the incident in the temple, but he would be damned if he allowed anything to stop them. He trailed his lips across Altaïr's tanned skin, happy to feel him leaning more into the touches as he turned his head, their lips meeting in a bruising kiss. He felt he had to get the Assassin back into the mood. Silently moving his hand forward, he smirked when he heard and felt the other gasp into his mouth when his hand came into rough contact with his erection, also pleased to feel it wasn't affected by the short little stand off that just took place. It took little time for Altaïr to respond, leaning more into both the intense kiss, and the skilled hand that teased him through the cloth of his pants. Since it was obvious the Assassin was once again at the mercy of his touches, Malik smirked against the others lips, deciding it was his turn to lose some clothing. Without breaking the kiss, Malik's hand left the others erection, earning a rather disgruntled noise of disapproval as he trailed it up the front of Altaïr's robes, smiling against his lips when his fingers came into contact with the Assassin's belt. The thick, leather hide was rough against his fingertips, trailing them along the top until they came to rest upon the fastener. With great ease, he unfastened the belt, the heavy piece falling off of Altaïr's waist with a soft sound, the daggers clattering together. He moved it aside before his hand went to the red sash that kept the robes in place. He was pleased he was receiving no resistance from the younger male. The kiss deepened as his fingers pulled on the strip until it gave in, sliding free from the others waist. Once removed, the robes fell loose, now just hanging off of Altaïr's body as he leaned over Malik, the kiss never once breaking.

Malik only broke free from the kiss once he felt Altaïr shift slightly. Opening his eyes, he watched as Altaïr pulled away, a smile coming to his face as he watched the other removing his own boots, setting them next to his. Without warning, Altaïr turned back to him, grinning devilishly as he leaned forward with almost inhuman speed. A sharp, nearly painful intake of air was the only response Altaïr received from Malik as he placed his mouth to his neck once more, gently sucking on the sensitive spot he had located earlier. The Dai cracked open an eye once he felt the other begin to push him against the wall. Sensing the other gazing at him, Altaïr tore himself from Malik's neck, leaning back enough to look him in the eye. A faint blush tinted Malik's cheeks as he took steady breaths to calm himself, his eyes gently closing. With a smirk, Altaïr leaned forward, his hands to Malik's thighs. Before the Dai knew what was happening, the Assassin had him basically in his lap, his legs on either side of his hips. Altaïr then chuckled at the surprised noise that came from Malik as he pushed him more against the wall, leaning over so their foreheads gently rested against one another, his left hand still to Malik's thigh, while his right ghosted it's way up his side, lightly tracing his ribs. He could feel Malik's body beginning to tremble slightly under the touches. Calming his shaky breath, Altaïr swallowed, tightening the grip he had on the other while pulling him closer. "Ze beseder, Malik." He whispered hotly, his breath ghosting over Malik's face, causing his skin to flush, the pink hue growing more crimson. He responded to the Assassin's reassuring words with a simple nod, willing his body to calm enough to no longer worry the other.

Altaïr watched him, his lips pulled back in a small smile as he gently pulled the white robes from around the others waist, folding them neatly and setting them aside. Malik took deep, calming breaths to rid himself of the nerves he shouldn't be feeling. Before long, Altaïr's attention returned to the only article of clothing that still remained on the Dai; his pants. Eying the the gray material as if it offended him greatly in some way, he leaned forward, eyes glancing back up to meet Malik's. Not once breaking eye contact with the other, Altaïr's hands moved to the hem of Malik's pants, looping his fingers under the material. He watched for any kind of warning signs if he was going to fast, though was not surprised he found nothing on the others features. The shy stare Malik was giving him, was only making his erection ache more and more for the other man. Gently, he undid Malik's pants, halting for an instant before slowly pulling the material down, dragging both it and his fingertips over his hips. The Dai sucked in his breath, holding it as his eyes shut tight, no longer able to keep the staring contest going. The action caused Altaïr to chuckled softly, pulling his pants down his calves while pushing his legs forward, gently forcing his knees to bend. After taking the time to study his body, mapping every curve and dip his muscles made in the dark skin, Altaïr gave a gentle tug, pulling his pants free from his feet. Like everything else that belonged to Malik, he gently folded them, leaning over and setting them off to the side beside the rest of his belongings. He then turned back to the Dai, once again letting his eyes explore over his body, committing everything he saw to his memory.

Malik's entire body blushed under the gazing eyes of the Assassin, causing him to feel both embarrassed and uneasy. He wanted greatly to break the intense gaze Altaïr was giving his nude form, but couldn't bring himself to. Leaning forward, Altaïr gently pushed him back down against the pillows while positioning himself over him. Now, Malik lay naked under the one person he felt most embarrassed to be completely exposed to. He also couldn't help but feel greatly ashamed. Finally not able to withstand it any longer, Malik turned his head, eyes tightly shutting. For years, he had lied to himself about the feelings he felt for his friend, feeling Altaïr would never feel the same in return. When his emotions were beginning to grow too strong to control, he felt he was about to break, and confess it all. But then they were given the mission to go into Solomon's Temple... and ever since that day, things had grown more complicated. He had every right to hate Altaïr for what had happened to him. He was furious at him for the loss of his brother, and even the loss of his arm. Others understood the anger that came from losing his blood brother... but they all knew he would adapt to having lost his arm. What they would never know was, by losing his arm... Malik began to convince himself that Altaïr would never want anything to do with him now. He wasn't 'perfect' anymore. He wasn't whole... wasn't complete. He was flawed. Feeling that way about himself, made it easier to say such things to Altaïr when he would arrive at the Bureau for information on his targets, easier to turn his back to him without saying another word other then coldly speaking 'Leave now.'. What Malik didn't notice, was how all of those things greatly affected the Assassin.

Altaïr watched the others behavior, eyes narrowing as he leaned closer, pushing Malik more into the pillows. He placed his left hand to Malik's cheek, turning his head so he faced him, "Do not do that." Malik's eyes cracked open, glancing up at the others sternly spoken words. Altaïr smiled once his eyes connected with Malik's. He leaned back a little, smiling even more at the other before he continued, "You are perfect." His right hand ghosted up Malik's side, dragging his fingers tantalizingly across his skin. He then gently placed his hand over the bandages, causing the other to flinch slightly, before he added, "All of you." Malik stared at him, his brain trying to wrap around the others words that were just spoken. He was _certain_ he would not want him... yet he just told him not to turn away. That he was _perfect_. He shook his head slightly, trying to look away still. Surely Altaïr must be blind, to think he was perfect! The Assassin made a slight face when Malik tried looking away from him, causing him to move a hand to his chin, forcing him to face him once more, "Malik..." he whispered his name smoothly, only continuing once the other looked up at him, "... you are."

Malik felt his face heat up to probably the hottest degree yet at the deep tone of Altaïr's voice. "Altaïr..." The Assassin smirked as he leaned forward, capturing the others lips. What intended to be an innocent kiss, soon became much more as both were suddenly filled with renewed lust. Malik's hand reached up, grasping a fistful of the others robes as he began climbing over him, pushing him further into the pillows. Without breaking the kiss, Altaïr's hands moved to his own pants, undoing them enough to where they just hung off his hips, teasing the man beneath him. Malik broke free, glancing down at the others hips, seeing his pants hanging just enough to cover the one area he was longing for. He let out a grunt of disapproval, shifting around impatiently, while his eyes glared up with a warning in them. The Assassin let out a soft chuckle, leaning down and roughly capturing the other in a hungry kiss. Feeling he teased him long enough, Altaïr smirked against the others lips, tugging his pants free from his hips. Once removed, he tossed them to the side, obviously not minding his own belongings as much. He leaned back, allowing Malik to view his own body. The Dai took no time to think as his eyes trailed from Altaïr's, down his body. Even though his robes still remained, Malik couldn't get over how perfectly toned Altaïr's lower half was. His thighs were tight with muscles, while his legs, though lean, were in perfect shape from all the years of running and climbing. Even though old scars from his novice years as an Assassin only added an almost delicate like texture to his flesh. He was saddened slightly at not being able to see the Assassin's entire body unclothed, but the sad feeling went away when his eyes rest upon his erection. He swallowed as he felt himself grow painfully hard at that moment, earning a deep chuckle from the Assassin above him. Not enjoying being laughed at, Malik reached up, his hand to Altaïr's proudly standing erection, gently wrapping his fingers around the shaft. The laughing stopped, and was immediately replaced by a sharp intake of air as Altaïr's body instantly went stiff. As Malik began to move his hand, starting with a slow and steady pace, he couldn't help as one thought kept entering his mind, "Altaïr... we have no lotions. And nothing in the Bureau can be used..." he whispered.

He paused his motions when he heard the other trying to speak, but having difficulty due to his ministrations. Altaïr looked down at him, eyes dilated, dark and full of lust, before looking around as if he would magically find something just lying around. Of course, no such thing was in view. With a shaky sigh, he turned back to Malik, "Could one of us go to the market and purchase some?" He suggested.

Malik frowned, shaking his head, "Not me. I've been in Jerusalem long enough... they know me here. I will not go out to purchase something such as _that_." Though it was over a foolish reason, he still had some pride he wished to maintain.

Altaïr eyed him, an unamused look on his features before he sighed, getting to his feet while reaching for his pants, "Then I will go, and-"

However, Malik reached out, grasping his robes and giving him a strong tug to halt him, "You can not! The guards are still on high alert. Still looking for you! Surely you taking your time at a stall will give them the chance they need to recognize you. We will just go without." He gave his robe another tug, wanting to continue with this quickly. His erection was beginning to bother him to the point where he didn't think he could wait for either of them to return from the market.

Altaïr eyed him for a second before kneeling before him, once again tossing his pants to the side. He shook his head, giving the Bureau a glance once more, "No. Not without. I will not hurt you again." At first, Malik didn't quite get the 'again' part, for this was their first time doing this. But then he thought back on their earlier discussion. He sighed to himself, eyes half lidded as he watched Altaïr scanning the room for something safe that could be used. Even though he forgave him... it seemed Altaïr was still stuck in the past, regretting the events that took place in Solomon's Temple because of his actions. Malik knew that if and when Altaïr apologized, he would forgive him. It appeared, however, that the Assassin was not so forgiving of himself. Wanting to take both his and Altaïr's minds off the subject, he reached out once again, grasping Altaïr's erection with a much firmer grip than before. The other gasped, jumping as his thoughts where pulled from the room and back to Malik. The Bureau leader smirked as he moved his hand at a steady pace, enjoying the way Altaïr was beginning to squirm around at his touches. "M-Mal..." Altaïr whispered, his voice beginning to sound breathless as the other picked up his pace. The smirk was still in place when Malik moved his hand down to the base, then squeezed, slowly dragging his hand back up the entire shaft, all the way to the tip. He then slightly released the other, gently caressing the very tip of the head. After a second, he paused, glancing down when his palm came into contact with something warm, wet and sticky. Altaïr, too, glanced down when he felt the other halt his motions, curious as to why. Both men felt their faces heat up as Malik slowly pulled his hand away, revealing the cause. Precum had already begun leaking from the tip of Altaïr's penis. Malik chuckled, teasing Altaïr about getting overly excited over a simple touch, where as Altaïr simply stared at the white substance. It only took a second before Altaïr smirked up to Malik, "That is it!"

Malik blinked, slightly annoyed by the fact the other wasn't bothered in the slightest by being teased, "What is it, brother?"

"We may not have any lotions, but that does not mean it has to be done dry." He waited to see if the other got it, smirk still on his face. Malik stared for a second, before glancing back down at his palm.

Seeing it covered in the others precum caused a slightly colored hue to his face, his lips to curving into a smirk. "But of course." He moved his hand back to the others erection, grasping it tightly as a deep chuckle came from him, "Naturally." He stroked it a couple of times, before pulling his hand from the heated flesh.

The instant his hand grabbed him yet again, Altaïr's brain snapped back into action. He moaned, shaking his head slightly to clear it of all thoughts. Malik couldn't help as his smirk grew wider, giving the other a quick nod. Altaïr let out a soft sigh as he quickly pressed his body against Malik's, pushing him down, his back on the rugs. A violent shudder passed through out their bodies when their erections roughly rubbed against each other. Malik looked up into Altaïr's eyes, his face showing his eager lust, while his eyes betrayed him, showing the nervousness he was starting to experience. Altaïr smiled, leaning down and gently kissing his forehead. "Relax, Malik. I will not harm you." The softly spoken words helped ease Malik's nerves. The Assassin saw the still present uneasiness in the others eyes, causing him to smile instead of smirk. He leaned back a little, wanting to make sure he kept his eyes locked with the other, "You will let me know... if it gets to be too much?" He couldn't understand why his heart was racing to a nearly painful pace, or why his breath was already coming and going in barely breathable intakes of quick gasps.

Malik never made the motion to break eye contact with the Assassin, even after the words were whispered. He simply smiled, nodding to the other and speaking after a few seconds, "Yes." Altaïr waited for a few long seconds, scanning Malik's face in search for any signs that the Bureau leader may not be ready, or no longer wished to continue. However, no such signs existed anywhere on his features. If anything, his face held signs of anticipation, which helped ease Altaïr's nerves and fears. With a second nod, he pressed his body closer, moving his right hand to his erection. Malik had already smeared more than enough precum over the entire shaft, but Altaïr wanted to make double sure it was slick enough to cause as little discomfort as possible. He moaned, eyes sliding shut and head tilting down when his hand came in contact with the heated flesh, wrapping his fingers around and sliding his hand up and down a few times, making sure his entire erection was covered. Malik lay still, watching as Altaïr continued to prepare himself. Just watching him touching himself was enough to make Malik moan out, nibbling on his bottom lip as he shifted slightly. Even if he couldn't see the actions due to the white robes the Assassin still wore, just hearing the noises coming from him, and seeing his arm making the motions was enough. Just when Malik was about to loose himself and move his hand to his own member, Altaïr pulled his hand away, bringing it out from under his robes.

He held his hand out in front of him, staring at his palm covered in the faintly white, sticky substance before giving Malik another glance, "This will work. Are you ready, Malik?" His tone was filled with something Malik hadn't heard in such a long time, he nearly forgotten Altaïr was capable of expressing it; intense nervousness.

Watching his expression intently, Malik took a deep breath before nodding once, whispering his response, "Yes, Altaïr..." He relaxed more into the pillows, his breaths already coming in quick gasps. Altaïr leaned over, capturing the others lips. The space between them was closed as Altaïr pushed Malik's legs apart with his aide, settling between his thighs. He then gently pushed his hips forward, halting all motions with the sudden, pain-filled gasp that came from the man beneath him at the slow intrusion. Malik's eyes closed tightly at the burning pain, taking in sharp breaths between tightly clenched teeth when the other began moving once again. His hand shot up, grasping Altaïr's right arm in a strong grip, his nails digging into the Assassin's flesh through the material of his robes. "A-Altaïr..." He gasped out, taking in a deep breath once he felt the one above him settling, indicating he was completely sheathed. He cracked open his eyes to only a sliver, amazed to see Altaïr gazing down at him, concern overpowering the lust in his eyes. For only an instant in time, he couldn't understand why he wasn't moving. Once he realized the reason, Malik smirked through the unfamiliar pain, and pushed his hips up against the Assassin's, earning a very unusual surprised intake of air from the other. That sudden motion Malik made, was all Altaïr needed to know he wasn't in too much pain. Gazing down at him once more, he leaned over, kissing him passionately while thrusting forward, grinding his hips into the others as he moved. Malik gasped into Altaïr's mouth at the splurge of new pleasure that coursed through out his entire being. Though the pain was still present, he allowed his body to relax into the flowing motions of the other body moving against his. The Assassin continued a slow, steady pace at first, gently changing the angle of which he entered, trying to find that one spot. Feeling as if he were about to suffocate from lack of air, Malik broke the kiss, his head tilting back against the pillows, his mouth remaining open as his breathing increased.

Gazing down at him, a million thoughts began racing through Altaïr's mind all at once. The two thoughts he kept his focus on, was the extremely hot tightness that his erection was encased in, and how amazingly vulnerable Malik appeared. The longer he watched him; chest heaving, eyes tightly shut from both pain and pleasure, lips parted enough to allow his tongue to stick out slightly, it was all beginning to break his control. He clenched his teeth, eyes narrowed in a look of pure determination. He was going to give Malik the intense pleasure he deserved. He pushed forward, their hips rubbing against each other, as he arched his back, moving his right hand to the Dai's hip, while his left reached for his arm, pulling on it enough where he broke the grip he had on his robes. Once freed, he slid his hand along Malik's arm until he reached his wrist, pushing his hand back and above his head while taking his hand into his own and lacing their fingers tightly together. For the longest time, Malik thought having Altaïr's hand in his own would feel awkward, with his ring finger lost from Initiation. However, despite the missing digit, it felt like their fingers laced together perfectly, causing a smile to form through the pain as Malik tightened his grip on Altaïr's hand. Soon, the burning pain was beginning to cool into a warming pleasure as Malik's body became more accustomed to the feeling of Altaïr's moving against his, which in turn caused his features to relax. Altaïr took notice of the Dai's body growing more at ease against his own, as well as finding it easier to slide himself in and out. The feeling that Malik was beginning to experience was so intense, that he no longer feared being seen. He was actually in the state of mind that he pitied any man who would dare interfere. He was certain Altaïr would slaughter anyone who wasn't a brother if they came to investigate the noises they were certain could be heard from the streets. He knew he would.

Both began to increase their pace, Altaïr's hips snapping into the others, while Malik's welcomed the thrusts, feeling every last ounce of self control they had over their movements slowly beginning to melt away into the heat they were creating together. Altaïr felt the closest to loosing control, his perfectly calculated and timed thrusts beginning to lose precision and rhythm, his passionate kisses now growing sloppy from lust, and just as the Assassin almost had his actions under his full control once more, he moved his hips up at a sharper angle, piercing that one spot deeply inside the other, causing his back to arch off the rugs, his thighs to tighten around his hips, head tilt back as a cry of pure ecstasy poured from his lips and echoed off the walls of the Bureau. And it was that cry that had snapped the very last restraint Altaïr had over himself. With a heavy grunt, the Assassin grasped Malik's hip tightly, so much so that his blunt nails began biting into the others tanned flesh. He leaned forward, his face hovering over the others. Their eyes locked, igniting the passion and lust they were feeling to an unbelievable degree. Wrapping his arm around Altaïr's neck, Malik pulled him down into a bruising, messy kiss, enjoying the salty tang as he licked at the Assassin's scarred lips. Altaïr made a noise of mild frustration that was drowned in the kiss as he momentarily lost the spot that had Malik basically writhing in his arms. Changing the angle, Altaïr placed a well aim thrust that had his friend turned lover crying out once more. However, it was no noise he cried. Altaïr's motions ceased for only a flicker of a second when it registered it was his _name_ Malik had cried out in the throes of pleasure. He stared down at the closed eyes of the other in wide eyed surprise. With nearly unbearable passion towards the one beneath him, Altaïr began moving again, being fueled by both the feelings he felt towards him, and the noises coming from him. He leaned over closer, his lips to Malik's ear, their sweat drenched stomachs and chests pressed strongly together. Their hands which were still laced together, squeezing each other now as both were near their ends.

Malik could feel his body heating up greatly, the pressure getting to be nearly too painful to bear any longer. He was close, he knew he was. He couldn't take anymore of the blinding pleasure as Altaïr continued to push him closer to the edge. Between the strong, wild thrusts, and the others hot breath to his ear, Malik felt his body begin to lock up. Vaguely, he felt something wet trailing down the side of his face, though if it was sweat or tears he could not tell, but was startled when he felt callused fingertips gently wiping it away. His eyes opened when he felt the other sit back, pausing all motions as he moved his hands to his lower back. Taking a deep breath, Altaïr pulled, hoisting Malik up and into a sitting position in his lap. He then moved his hands up to steady Malik, holding him upright as if feeling the other could no longer summon the strength to hold himself up, his left hand grasping Malik's arm tightly, while his right hand grasped at the others slick back. Malik couldn't suppress a surprised gasp as the motion caused Altaïr to move far more deeply inside him. He cracked an eye open, nearly losing himself at what he saw.

Altaïr's face was like something Malik had never seen before, and it was beautiful. It was heated and pink from both the hour of the day, and their love making. His eyes were shut tight in deep concentration, his hair matted and messy from sweat. His teeth were clenched, sucking air in sudden, quick gasps of air as if he were having great difficulty breathing. He watched him, gasping at nearly every thrust now, rocking his hips into the others insane motions, trying in vein to keep up with his almost desperate thrusts. He tightened the grip he had on the others arm, feeling the damp material of the robes creasing from his strong hold. His fingers were digging into Altaïr's arm with such strength, he began fearing he would break skin. Another well placed thrust erased Malik's mind of every thought besides Altaïr. He cried out as his body began to grow too sensitive, the pleasure beginning to reach a painful state, feeling himself starting to grow tense. He could also feel the body below him tightening up in the same fashion, signs that he, too, was close.

Altaïr lowered his head as memories of their last time together flooded his mind, causing him to moan out long and loud at the memory of the feeling of his release, knowing this time would be far more intense. He cracked an eye open, glancing up without moving his head at the other. He moaned to himself upon seeing the others expression. It was one of pure pleasure, something he never thought he'd see on Malik's face, let alone be the cause of it. He couldn't help himself as his body began thrusting upward with renewed strength upon gazing down at the others body. Not only his face held the pink hue of heat caused blush, but his entire being held the color of the pleasurable glow, shining with unspeakable beauty caused by the sweat. Taking a deep breath after swallowing the hard lump in his dry throat, Altaïr parted his lips, trying to speak through the pleasure, "Malik, I... I-" He cut himself off, his tone hoarse, eyes shutting tightly once more as he felt his end approaching. His body was growing numb from the pleasure, thighs growing tight while the grip he had on the man he loved tightened to what would have been a painful degree if he, too, was not so far lost in the blinding pleasure.

Malik picked up on Altaïr's tone, knowing him well enough to expect what he was trying to say. With slight difficulty, Malik swallowed, his throat painfully dry, his tongue equally as dry when he licked his chapped lips before answering the other, "I understand... Altaïr. And I to you." It was that quick, breathless confession that made the end of Altaïr. With two more strong upward thrusts, the Assassin's body locked up completely, his hands gripping the other as if he were the only one keeping him attached to that world. His intense orgasm was felt by the other, causing a deep moan to escape him as he, too, found release. Both bodies were painfully stiff, locked in place as if frozen in time, their heads tilted back in soundless cries of pure pleasure as they both rode out their orgasms together. Once spent, Malik fell forward, collapsing against the slick chest of the Assassin. Wrapping his arms tightly around his friend, Altaïr held him close, resting his cheek against the top of the others head. The chimes soft sounds and gentle rushing of the fountains water were barely heard over their deep, labored panting as both rested against the other, using each others body as leverage since they no longer possessed the strength to hold themselves up. Altaïr's breath was the first to return to a normal pace this time around as he held onto the still deeply panting Malik, placing a hand to the back of his head. He held him close for a few moments, gently combing his fingers through his dark hair affectionately, earning a tired sigh from the exhausted Dai. The Assassin glanced down, tilting his head enough so he was able to take in the scent of the others hair, deeply inhaling the pleasantly relaxing smell. He held him closer, feeling a sudden, strong protectiveness for the other overcome him. Even though he knew Malik was still strong, he silently made a vow to protect him, no matter who or what it was from. A smile came to his lips as the one in his arms shifted slightly, a quiet groan being heard. Altaïr was about to speak when Malik spoke first, "Altaïr... my body aches."

A playful chuckle escaped Altaïr as he nuzzled into the others hair. Despite being damp, it was still soft and rather comfortable. "It will for a few days, I am afraid." He placed a chaste kiss atop Malik's head, before gently shifting them around. With a groan, he managed to push forward, his right arm wrapped tightly around Malik to keep him close, while using his left hand to prop himself up, sliding his legs under himself. As slowly as he could, Altaïr lowered Malik down until his back came into contact with the pillows and rugs, halting every time a gasp left his lips. He studied his face, taking in deep, steady breaths as if to help encourage the other to breathe normally. He kept his arm around Malik, making sure the other was lying comfortably on it, before moving his left hand to his cheek.

The gentle caresses upon the right side of his face caused Malik to open his eyes half way, gazing up lazily into the eyes of the one person he found he loved. A smile soon came to him, shutting his eyes while turning his head into the others warm touch. He rested his eyes for a moment, before blinking them open to watch Altaïr. The Assassin moved his hand from his cheek, also pulling his arm free from around his back, moving so both hands were at Malik's hips, grasping hold tightly. With a questioning look in his eyes, he proceeded to remove himself upon receiving the nod to do so. A slight pained noise came from Malik as Altaïr slipped free, immediately missing the feeling of being whole. After checking to see if the Bureau leader was not harmed, Altaïr relaxed, settling next to him. Even though it made him feel sickeningly horrible, he could not help but think with the lack of his arm, the Assassin was able to snuggle up rather closely to the young Dai, gently resting his head against Malik's shoulder. He moved to sit up when a pained gasp reached his ears the instant he lay his head down, causing his head to snap back up, however Malik wrapped his only arm around him, holding him tightly to his body. Altaïr tilted his head up, just enough to see Malik's face. His stern expression said enough. No words were needed. With a defeated sigh, Altaïr gently lay his head back down, this time not hearing any pained noises from above, nor feeling the warm body next to him tense up. They rested, each trying to regain the strength they had lost. If it weren't for the loud commotion going on right outside of the Bureau's walls between two women, they would have dozed off. With an annoyed sigh, Altaïr pushed himself up, looking over his shoulder and down at the other. Malik made no such motions to indicate he planned on moving himself any time soon.

With the same smile that only Malik seemed to be the one living being to see upon his face, Altaïr got to his feet, not needing to cover himself since he still wore his robes. "Rest here, I will clean this time."

Malik scoffed, "Of course you would clean when there is no blood. Do you know how long that took for me to get off my floor?" He eyed the other, a smirk on his face as he watched Altaïr simply wave his hand dismissively, disappearing into the Bureau. "Your blood is as stubborn as you!" Seconds later, he returned with a few dry, clean cloths, mimicking the actions of Malik just days ago. He brought the cloths he had dampened in the fountain over to the other, kneeling by his side. With slow movements, he began cleaning the mess the two of them had made, wiping his and Malik's lower abdomens of the older man's essence. After discarding the dirtied cloths, Altaïr returned to Malik's side with his clothes, aiding the other once he completely regained his strength. He then dressed himself only after helping Malik.

Malik watched Altaïr from behind the desk, a look of longing in his eyes as he watched the Assassin toying with his hidden blade, a feeling of nostalgia creeping into him. Shaking his head, he stood upright, "You are leaving, Altaïr?"

Altaïr blinked, retracting the blade as he turned to face the other. He smiled and shook his head, walking up to the desk to lean over it, his arms crossed and bearing his weight, "Are you trying to rid yourself of me?" he chuckled.

Malik couldn't help but chuckle himself, leaning over slightly, "Why would I wish that?" He then shook his head, leaning back while placing his hand on top the others.

Altaïr watched his for a moment, before sliding a hand free to place it over Malik's, "I am only going out to make sure _you_ did not inform any guards." He laughed at how much color came to the others face despite the glare he received, as well at how tensed his hand became between the others. He leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to Malik's lips before slipping completely free from the other man.

Just as Altaïr walked out into the resting area, Malik called out to him, "Altaïr," he smiled to the Assassin when he looked over his shoulder, slightly turning his body towards the Bureau leader. "safety and peace be with you."

Altaïr smiled, "Safety and peace be with you as well, Malik." before turning, walking towards the wall with the opening. Malik listened, his heart growing heavy when he heard the flutter of clothing, indicating the other had climbed up and out of the Bureau. Glancing around the walls of the Bureau, Malik guessed it was close to late evening according to the shadows that danced over everything. With a tired sigh, he walked around the desk, moving into the room the Assassin had left from. Looking down at the pillows and rugs, he couldn't help it as his face heated up as the memories flooded his mind. With a soft chuckle, he settled down on the rugs that the Assassin had taken him on. They had cleaned all evidence, so no one would ever know about what took place in Malik's Bureau, which pulled the Dai's lips into a devious smirk.

End~


End file.
